


Not enough

by Higgystar



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rickyl, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing feels like it's enough. Not until Rick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not enough

Everything in this new world is not enough. Not enough weapons. Not enough food. Not enough water. Not enough safety. Not enough trust. Not enough room.

Daryl can barely breathe, and when he can all he gets is the scent of Rick, and it’s perfect. The supply closet at the prison is nothing, barely a couple of feet wide and deep, but it’s the best they can find for a moment of privacy. He’s sweating, so is Rick, but as soon as the other man’s teeth bite at his neck, he doesn’t care. Everything is too much, too tight, too hot, too stifling, but it’s perfect.

There is no finesse, no slow stripping of clothing and the reveal of flesh, instead it is quick, it’s uncoordinated and Daryl’s pants and underwear are crumpled at his ankles as Rick shoves his own clothing aside. Fingers grab at his sides, Rick is breathing heavy into the back of his neck, and all he can feel is Rick. It makes his skin tingle with goose bumps, makes him shove back frantically for more even when he knows he should be patient. Behind him Rick groans, cock pressing against Daryl’s rear, rubbing almost in exactly the right spot but not quite. Not enough. Not yet.

Rick grabs at him, fingers pinching into him, grabbing and trying to get some kind of order to their desperate tryst where there is none. Daryl twists as much as he can, squirms and wriggles until Rick can kiss him, can crash their mouths together and bite at his lips until they’re raw and throbbing and only able to taste Rick. He’s moaning, his body is trembling but he doesn’t care because he knows there is nothing else in the world he needs more than this. Rick is his everything right now, and he is all Rick is focussed on and it feels like it’s enough, if just for the moment. They gasp together, rut against each other like animals, cocks hard and leaking onto the clothing they can’t push aside far enough. Rick’s fingers are bruising at his hips, his nails keep catching in the loose hair at the base of Rick’s neck, but despite their mistakes, it’s perfect.

Daryl can only move with every movement Rick makes. The other man guides him, not needing to say a word, just needing to move, to slide their bodies together just so, to coax and shift them in such a way that Daryl can only feel, taste, touch, Rick. He pants harder as Rick’s slick fingers press at his entrance, sliding against him, the rest of Rick’s body helping him move, propping him up against shelving to get him in the right position to let his fingers make that long, slow slide inside of him.

It makes him gasp, body already trembling for more, because it may be Rick, but it’s not the part of Rick he wants. Not enough, not nearly enough. So he’s squirming, pressing himself back, opening himself up on those fingers and gasping for more, crashing their lips together and swallowing Rick’s moans until the other man is moving him again. There is nothing he needs more than Rick taking control of him, grabbing at his hips and turning him in place, getting his legs spread, knees weak, hands grabbing at shelving for some kind of stability as Rick moans into his ear.

He can barely breathe in here it’s so stuffy, and when he can it’s all just him, Rick, sex and sweat. A mix of scents that are so alive and vibrant, the air is thick with the smell of sex and they’ve barely started. He can feel Rick, the closet is small enough that he feels every movement of Rick getting more lube to slick up his cock and stroke over himself. It leaves him wanting, leaves his knees trembling as he fingers himself open more, begging with his body, with Rick, with God, to just hurry up and be ready because he needs more. Rick is over him again, pressed up against his back, their shirts rough against sensitive skin but he can’t stop to get them out of the way, not when it means losing a moment of Rick being all over him.

“Please.” He’s begging, uncaring of how weak and desperate he sounds, because he is, he needs this, needs Rick because his cock is hard and pressing into his belly in desperation for more. “Rick, please.” If he has to wait much longer he might burst, might suffocate, might give up on existence because he needs this. Needs Rick. Always Rick.

The blunt pressure at his hole doesn’t hurt anymore; instead there is just an aching throb as Rick pushes inside of him, one that makes him groan low and loud as he feels complete. There is always an ache, a moment of muscles finding their new place, but fuck he doesn’t care because this is what he needs. What Rick needs, and he can share the same moan as Rick because everything in this damned space is too tight. Rick is over him, on him, pressed against every inch of his back, sheathed deep inside of him and digging his fingers into his hips and Daryl has never felt so complete.

For a moment Rick doesn’t move, doesn’t do more than rock into his fully, until they’re so tightly pressed together Daryl can’t feel where his body heat ends and Rick’s begins. He can feel Rick panting, breath hot and desperate on the back of his shoulder. It makes him squirm, makes him twitch his hips in a way that gets Rick shivering, trembling over him until the fingers at his hips tighten their grip. Then Rick moves, just a quick jerk of the hips, a warning, a hint of what was to come and Daryl’s falling apart all over again.

His cock is leaking, hot and raw, and he doesn’t need to touch himself as Rick moves, as that perfect meld of their bodies shifts enough to get him gasping and closing his eyes for a second. It’s intense, he can feel each of Rick’s breaths, can feel each twitch of his cock and it makes him want nothing more than this moment forever. Rick is there, smothering him, inside of him, giving the tiniest buck of his hips to make Daryl feel complete and he knows they’re going to stink of sweat and sex and he just doesn’t care. Because Rick is moving, sliding out enough to slide back in, to catch his lips on the back of Daryl’s neck and press a sloppy kiss before he does it again.

It’s perfect. Rough, raw, real and so fucking perfect he’s almost damned near howling. Instead it’s as if the noises have gotten caught in his chest, and his mouth is open in a silent moan as Rick begins fucking him properly. Daryl can’t even begin to focus when it’s like this. When all he’s surrounded by, owned by, is Rick. His fingers clench on the shelving, not needing to even touch his own cock as Rick pounds into him, hitting every sweet spot he has and stretching him open so easily. He’s made for this, made for Rick, made to be here and even if it’s cramped and filled with bitten off curses as they hit something else, it’s perfect.

Pressing back he begins his own rhythm, hitting against Rick’s thrust, meeting him halfway and panting as it just makes it better. The feeling of fullness sates him, gets him smacking back until the closet is filled with the filthy, wet noise of Rick’s slick cock driving him open again and again. Sweat falls into his eyes, matting up his hair but he doesn’t care, could never care about anything else in this world but the feeling of Rick pressed up against his back and fucking him open. The scratch of Rick’s beard against his neck, the feel of his heavy breaths over his skin, the pinch of his fingers digging into his hips gives him life, gives him everything he’s ever needed.

They’re filthy, sweating, stinking of sex and rutting like animals, panting and groaning together with no shame, no thought for anybody else in the world but each other. Daryl can feel himself getting lost, losing himself in Rick, tilting his head to the side to try and watch him, to make sure this is real and truly happening. Of course Rick is there, is pressing into him firmer, sliding deeper until Daryl can feel his balls pressed against him, until Rick is flush against him and can shove a hasty kiss against his cheek. He’s whining, begging for more with his voice and body, arching into it all, feeling burned by the heat but always wanting more.

Rick is there. Over him, inside him, around him. Keeping him tethered, giving him something to hang onto when he feels like he might just lose himself. Lips kiss at his cheek, a stubbled jaw brushes against his skin, and Rick is there, over his shoulder, panting, grunting as he fucks him, owns him, has him. Gripping at the shelving, Daryl can only shove back, can feel Rick pressing forwards, urging him, pushing him, burying himself into him enough, giving him something to hang onto as he pushes him over that edge. Even in the darkness of the closet, there are sparks of light behind his eyelids as he comes.

He’s trembling, shaking, Rick is groaning, thrusting into him harder, reaching around to stroke over his flushed cock and it makes him bite back a gasp as the sensitive flesh is fisted over. Rick strokes him, milks his cock for every drop, makes him whimper and shudder at the feeling of being overwhelmed, overworked, oversensitive. Rick is there, unapologetic, groaning in his ear, rubbing a thumb over the tip of his cock as he continues to thrust into him. Daryl can only let him; can only give in to the pure force of nature that Rick is. All he can do is whimper and weakly shove back to try and give Rick everything the other man has given him.

Fingers leave his cock, still stained with his come as they move to grab at his hips again, tugging him back, yanking him back onto Rick’s cock as he pounds into him. Rick gives a shout, a mix of a yell and a groan, and Daryl can feel it, can feel his cock pulse inside of him, that warm wetness of his come filling him, marking him. It makes him shudder, makes the warmth of the closet burn at his skin, leaves him shivering as if cold as Rick sprawls over his back, cock still deep inside of him. They moan together, breathe together, Rick’s arms move up to wrap about his chest, to hold him as they just breathe and try to come back to each other from the high of orgasm.

Daryl can only pant as Rick moves against him, holds him, buries his face into his neck and presses kisses over his heat flushed skin. They move together, finding each other in the darkness, ignoring elbows catching on shelves and feet sliding into supplies grouped on the floor. Because none of that matters when they get face to face, and Daryl can wrap his arms about Rick’s neck and hum into their shared kiss. Despite all the shit in the world, when they’re like this, together, complete, a team against the world.

It’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> For Normansreedus on tumblr.


End file.
